


Just Like Spaghetti

by Cuilchan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crack Fic, Drama, Fluff, Georgi and Michele are the ultimate dramatic couple, Georgi’s excellent taste in music™, Ice Cream, M/M, Relationship Advice, crispovich, given by Yuri, ish, mentioned Sara/Mila, popoweek, popoweek2k17, yuri is savage af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:51:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuilchan/pseuds/Cuilchan
Summary: There were many days like that one Yuri was just having, where he had the lounge all for himself, since Mila was out, and Georgi was holed up in his room. Not many of them, though, ended up with Georgi blasting off sad music.To be honest, it wasn’t the sad music that told Yuri that something wasoff; Georgi was the kind of person that revelled in this sort of music, and Yuri could relate, although he himself still preferred louder, more energetic music. No, it was okay, really, when he heard HIM’sJoin Me In Death, or Within Temptation’sWhat Have You Done; he was slightly concerned when it turned toWelcome To The Black Parade; but it was when he heardMy Immortalfor the third time in a row that he understood something was up.Georgi was stuck listening to Evanescence, and that could only mean that there was definitely something going on. It had been Georgi’s coping mechanism since he was a teenager and he had carried it with him through the years – even ten years after – because if a coping mechanism worked, why on Earth should you switch to anything different?





	Just Like Spaghetti

Michele hated flying. There were a _couple_ of things Michele couldn’t stand – and to be honest, _travelling Italians_ were on his top list. They complained, they were loud, and then there were his least favourite ones, the ones that were taking a plane for the first time and were spending ages at Security. And when you flew from Naples, you had seen a few absurd things too.

“You know that you’re exactly like the people you complain about, right?” Sara was looking at Michele from her hot cappuccino, half-exasperated when her brother had just made another whiny remark. They were sitting on one of the benches in Munich Airport, and since their connection to St. Petersburg was in four hours, they had some time to kill. For Sara, it meant listening to her brother’s complaints for all the hours left to go, if she didn’t change the subject soon enough. She had learned how to cope with Michele’s moods the hard way.

“So, why are you coming with me anyway? I thought we were over this, and we wouldn’t be in each other’s face all the time.” Sara grinned, and she knew already that Michele wasn’t going to bite.

“A couple of skating exhibitions and you think everything’s about you, sis.” Michele didn’t even look up from his phone, but he was playing along.

“I have my reasons!”

“Yes, and I’m sure making out with your girlfriend is enough motivation. What would Nonna Carmela say?”

“Maybe she’d tell us to be wary of foreigners and to resist the charms of singing American men? We can totally ask her next time we visit.”

Michele smirked, but once again kept texting on his phone.

“Sooo, what are your reasons to hang out in St. Petersburg?”

“I have friends too, you know?” Michele’s answer was quite flat.

“Yeah, and at least a _boyfriend_ too—”

Michele jumped right in his seat, finally looking up.

“He’s not—we’re not together _yet_.”

“ _Yet!_ So you’re going to be quite soon. Nicely done, bro, nicely done. I’m proud.” Sara beamed after taking another sip from her cup. “Tell Georgi I say hi!”

The only answer that Sara got, was her brother intensely blushing and mumbling words she couldn’t quite catch.

***

Yuri was lazily tapping away on his tablet, munching on a cereal bar, and generally taking it easy, like he usually did at the end of every season. Living with Georgi and Mila hadn’t turned out to be so bad after all. They were sharing space, but they also respected each other’s privacy and left each other plenty of room to breathe when they needed it. Yuri was originally concerned that living with them would result in an ongoing and perpetual sleepover party, but thank god, that had faded away after a week. They would also organise movie nights, and dinners, of course, but a lot of the time it was them being their own individuals and going on their usual business. Yuri was extremely thankful for that.

There were many days like that one he was just having, where he had the lounge all for himself, since Mila was out, and Georgi was holed up in his room. Not many of them, though, ended up with Georgi blasting off sad music. _To be honest_ , it wasn’t the sad music that told Yuri that something was _off;_ Georgi was the kind of person that revelled in this sort of music, and Yuri could relate, although he himself still preferred louder, more energetic music. No, it was okay, really, when he heard HIM’s _Join Me In Death_ , or Within Temptation’s _What Have You Done_ ; he was slightly concerned when it turned to _Welcome To The Black Parade_ ; but it was when he heard _My Immortal_ for the third time in a row that he understood something was up.

Georgi was stuck listening to Evanescence, and that could only mean that there was definitely something going on. It had been Georgi’s coping mechanism since he was a teenager and he had carried it with him through the years – even ten years after – because if a coping mechanism worked, why on Earth should you switch to anything different?

Yuri understood the sentiment of the songs, even approved of it, but in his opinion _Bring Me To Life_ had become too much of a meme to be taken seriously anymore. After being _held hostage_ in Georgi’s room to listen to some of their songs because _“How can you say that, Yuri?! Their music is poetry, and it’s the only reason I coped with being a teenager!”,_ Yuri had given up and concurred that _Everybody’s Fool_ wasn’t that bad.   

While Yuri debated with himself whether he should check on Georgi, _My Immortal_ started for the fourth time and that was enough of an answer for Yuri. He finished his cereal bar, slapped the crumbs off his hoodie and headed to Georgi’s room.

He knocked. No reply.

He knocked a little bit harder. “Georgi? Are you alright?” The music stopped.

“No.”

Yuri paused, unsure. “Do you… want to talk about it? I’ll get some ice cream.”

Yuri and Georgi were both equally surprised at Yuri’s kind offering, Yuri staring at the door in front of him and Georgi staying silent for a while on the other side.

“…Okay. Bring some chocolate syrup too.”

“You got it.”

 

Yuri took his time with the vanilla ice cream, adding the chocolate syrup straight into the tub, and then adding some chocolate flakes for good measure. He grabbed two spoons from the drawer, some napkins, and he was good to go.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

As he opened the door, the room was filled with darkness and Georgi was a shadow on his bed, lying across it, like a tragic opera heroine, with CDs all around him.

_He still used CDs? Why not just use the wireless speakers he had got for Georgi’s iPod?_ Yuri couldn’t fully grasp the whole technological _vintage_ Georgi was clinging to. Not when there were quicker ways of listening to music.

Georgi slowly sat up on the bed, moving the CDs to the side to make more room for Yuri. Yuri sat down, placing a few napkins on the bed, as well as the ice cream tub and passed a spoon to Georgi.

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the ice cream and the quietness of the whole apartment.

“So… What’s up?” Yuri prodded, and Georgi sighed.

“It’s Michele.”

“What happened?? Is he alright?”

Georgi nodded.

“Yes, you know he’s coming to St. Petersburg, right? With his sister, Sara.”

“Yeah, Mila won’t shut up about it and went lingerie shopp—sorry, go on.” Yuri interrupted before he decided to shut himself up with another spoonful of ice cream.

“He’s mad at me, we argued.” Georgi paused. “I can’t pick him up at the airport ‘cause I’m helping my cousin moving and now he’s being all passive-aggressive with me, saying that if I can’t get to the airport, then I don’t really care and things like that.”

“He _seriously_ said that?” Yuri raised an eyebrow, and Georgi just nodded. “Crispino needs to stop being a little bitch!”

Georgi straightened himself up even more. “ _Yuri!_ Don’t say that. Michele is a fiery, passionate, Italian man!”

Yuri raised both eyebrows and took a breath, shaking his head.

“Well, he might be, but that doesn’t excuse him for emotionally blackmailing you.”

“I know… It’s just—”

“Wait. Did you guys _actually_ talk about it? Like, your _relationship_?”

Georgi’s breath hitched in his throat.

“You _didn’t_? Georgi!”

“I know! I’m sorry. We’ve been so busy throughout the year, and with all the competitions… there just wasn’t enough time. And I didn’t want to discuss it over Skype—”

“So you didn’t discuss it _at all_?”

“No, I – I wanted to do something special for him—”

“You talk to him _first_ , and then you do whatever you want to do.” Yuri crossed his arms over his chest. His friends surely were older than him, but he wasn’t sure that the older/wiser correlation held true for them. Georgi was looking at Yuri, speechless, his hands laying idle in his lap.

“Okay,” Yuri stood up. “I want you to finish your ice cream, have a shower, and then I want you to text Michele and tell him to come here tonight because you two are going to talk.”

“Yuri, I’m older than you—”

“Then start adulting for god’s sake!” Yuri sighed for the umpteenth time. “You’re going to do just that, and I’ll call Mila and we’re going to be out of your hair in no time. Is that understood?”

“Yes…  _sir?_ ”

Yuri’s reply held the bigger smile Georgi had ever seen on the younger boy’s face, as well as something ominous he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Yuri had a point, though, and if Georgi was going to fix things, help his cousin moving furniture around, and let the wings of his eyeliner be true like the ones on his heart, there was no time to lose.

***

“You _really_ did something nice for Georgi? And gave him relationship advice? And ice cream? Oh, Yuri, I’m so glad you’re finally nice to your brother!”

Yuri could not see Mila, but he damn well _knew_ the expression she had on her face up to that very moment. He sighed, slightly blushing, as he scratched his cheek.

“He’s not my brother, and Mila, stop giggling!”

“ _I’m so proud of you, Yuratchka_.”

“ _Shut up_ and take me out for dinner.”

***

Yuri had been true to his word and left the flat with Mila, so that they could join Sara for dinner, while Georgi could have some time alone with Michele. After he had gotten back to the flat, Georgi had been so nervous, he didn’t even know what about precisely. Yes, he had his little fights with Michele and they tended to be very dramatic and over the top, and most of all, they tended to be over little nothings. However, he couldn’t really complain that their relationship wasn’t exactly flying if they hadn’t even discussed it now, could he? They needed to be honest with each other, and they needed to talk. He couldn’t have another season on the ice about heartbreak, it would destroy him and his fans.

When the door buzzed, Georgi could feel his heart tight in his chest.

_It was going to be alright. If it wasn’t meant to be, then it wasn’t, but at least he could move on with his life. Right?_

 

“Hey,” Michele greeted, a small smile on his lips, and hands buried deep in his pocket.

“Michele, please, come in.” Georgi gestured to the sofa in the lounge, realising too late that Yuri had left all his things on it. He rushed to tidy it up a bit, but Michele didn’t seem to mind as he moved one of the cushions to sit down. “You’re probably so tired. Can I get you anything? A beer?”

Michele stared intently at him, silent, as if to assess something about Georgi he didn’t realise before.

“Sure. Just one. You know I’m terrible with alcohol.”  

Georgi nervously giggled, and then mentally cursed himself for doing it, as he forced his body to actually go to the kitchen and act normal.

“You’d expect an Italian man to hold his wine, wouldn’t you?”

_Great, now he was throwing stereotypes at Michele. What was wrong with him?_

“Well, I was raised in my grandpa’s vineyard, maybe that’s part of the problem.” Michele laughed, as Georgi handed him the bottle of beer. They made the necks of the bottles clink.  

“I was thinking we could order something since there isn’t much at home. Some pizza, maybe?”

Michele choked on his beer as a small laugh burst out of him.

“Really, Gosha? _Pizza_?”

“Oh, god, you’re right. I’m so sorry.”

Michele shook his head. “No, it’s alright. To be honest, a man from Naples would be hesitant to buy pizza even in Italy, if it’s outside of Naples. Ask anyone.”

“I’m sorry, I –”

“Georgi?” Michele placed his bottle of beer on the coffee table, tension visible in his shoulders. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve been an ass.”

Georgi remained silent, as Michele breathed out, and laid back on the sofa.

“I shouldn’t have said those things, shouldn’t have made you feel guilty about not picking me up at the airport. You had a valid reason—and even if you didn’t, even if you just had wanted to help an old lady cross the road at that time, I should have respected it. I’m guessing it’s just…” Michele was struggling to find the right words and getting frustrated by the second. “ _Porca troia, perché sono un coglione_?” he muttered as he passed a hand over his face.

Georgi smiled a small smile.  
“Gesundheit.”

“Oh, you didn’t miss much, just me telling myself in Italian how much of a fucking idiot I am.” 

“You’re not— _look_.” Georgi placed his bottle next to Michele’s and sat next to him on the couch. “We haven’t really talked about this, and I’m sorry, we should have. If we want this relationship to work – whatever kind of relationship this is – we have to be honest with each other, and come to terms with the fact that it’s not going to be perfect and that we’re going to make mistakes. It’s what I had a hard time accepting with my past relationships, but I then realised that making mistakes… it’s part of the beauty of it.” Georgi took Michele’s hand. “I want this relationship to work because I care about you.”

“You…do?”

“Of course I do.”

Michele stared at the hand Georgi was holding and Georgi attempted to move it away, embarrassed. Michele held his hand in place instead, giving it a squeeze and a kiss.

“I’m glad, Gosha. And you know what? I _secretly_ love every little fight we have. It gets the blood going.”

“Like when I insult you for using Dostoevsky as a doorstop?”

Michele chuckled. “Yes, or when I insult you for breaking spaghetti before tossing them into the pot.”

“But they don’t fit!”

“You need to give them time to soften up!” Michele laughed, looking into Georgi’s eyes, intently, and it felt like they both realised something really important.

“Is _that_ what we need to do? Soften up?” Georgi asked, letting his face closer to Michele so that they were only a few inches away from each other. Michele couldn’t help but laugh again, because _could it get even more stereotypical than that_? _Comparing a relationship with an Italian man to spaghetti?_

“Yes,” Michele whispered, brushing Georgi’s lips with his. “We need to soften up. Just like spaghetti.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nonna: Grandmother

“ _Porca troia, perché sono un coglione_?”: _“Damnit, why am I a fucking idiot?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Writing for the YOI fandom is honestly so much fun. Thought I’d contribute to [_popoweek_ ](https://popoweek.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and give – literally – some love to Georgi. This was written for Day 3, Love life, and my idea started from Yuri finding himself doing what he didn’t really expect to do (ever): giving relationship advice to Georgi.  
>  I see this fic like something people in their twenties (and older) can read and just empathise with Georgi so much (Lol, hello past teenage me). On another note, I’m Italian, so moving the Crispinos was interesting. I guess the jokes on the stereotypes are just part of my life living abroad and something it’s always nice to play with!  
> [ _Come and say hi on tumblr!_](http://cuil-chan.tumblr.com)  
>  Thank you for reading! Apologies for any mistakes/typos; the fic is not beta'd.
> 
> Until next time ~


End file.
